


Once More with Feeling

by karrenia_rune



Category: The Last Unicorn - Peter S. Beagle
Genre: Cooking, Gen, Poetry, Romantic Gestures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-12
Updated: 2015-08-12
Packaged: 2018-04-14 09:02:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4558704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karrenia_rune/pseuds/karrenia_rune
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Molly gives Prince Lir advice on wining and wooing the heart of his lady love, with mixed results.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Once More with Feeling

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Elf (Elfwreck)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elfwreck/gifts).



Disclaimer: The Last Unicorn and the characters who appear here or are mentioned are the original creations of Peter S. Beagle or whoever owns his estate now. They are not mine and are only ‘borrowed’ for the purposes of the story. Written as a Treat for Elfwreck’s request in the 2015 Fic Corner Exchange.

Note: I was not signed up as a participant but the request was intriguing nonetheless.

“Once More with Feeling” 

She finds his attempts at wooing and winning the heart of the Lady Amalthea lying in alcoves and in the stairwells of the towers and in the cabinets of the kitchen were she spends the majority of his time. Some are longer than others and others no more than one or two lines. 

In the back of her mind, Molly thought, 'At least he did not begin with roses are red and violets are blue.'

Molly's heart goes out to the poor kid, both the potential swain and the potential object of his sincere passions are woefully inexperienced in the matters of the heart. 

Before he had tried his hand at poetry Prince Lir had tried to win her affections through acts of valor, deadly deeds, slaying monsters, and when that failed; Molly told him to try poetry. 

As for the lady herself,; well, that was problematic, the magic that had transformed her from a unicorn to a young woman in order to get into King Haggard's castle was as unknown and unpredictable as its caster,; and she knew very little about magic, but this state of affairs could not go on much longer. 

 

Molly Grue sat at the kitchen table with the brindled cat butting at her heels while she peeled potatoes to ready them to be boiled in the big black pot for the evening soup. The cat's purring is soothing, and she finds herself humming a tuneless melody under her breath as she works.

Just then Prince Lir comes in with a hang-dog expression on his long, handsome face.

"Evening, Molly," he says.

 

Evening, Your Highness," she replies.

"I struck out again."

"Do tell?" she says because part of her cares about him and another part of her is curious. 

"I did as you suggested; I wrote down what was in my heart, to let her know that I'm always thinking of her, how she moves, how she stands so still, all pale and tragic in the moonlight."

He picked up a knife and began to absently peel the carrots that she had also set aside for the soup. 'Damn it! he exclaimed when an errant swipe sliced into the inside part of this thumb. He put down the knife and put the injured finger into his mouth, tasting salt. "My apologies, Molly. "

"It's all right," Molly replied, leaving off her own work to get a washcloth and dampen it in the sink before cleaning up the mess.

Then she took his arm as she would have taken a horse or a dog back home to check for thorns and deemed the injury not serious, but told him to clean it out anyway. 

"Did you really use the expression pale and tragic in the moonlight?" 

Molly's mouth wanted to quiver with suppressed laughter at the image thus evoked, not because it was not a good verse, or decent imagery, given the dreary nature of the castle and the Lady's habit of standing at the edge of high parapets and gazing out on the white-capped breakers of the sea for hours upon hours, day in and day out.

No, because it was somewhat she had probably suggested it herself at some point we Prince Lir had first begun coming to her for help in courting the beautiful yet aloof young lady. 

If Prince Lir noticed, he gave no sign of it. Instead he said: 

"Yes, I don't want to give it up, I really don't. I've never felt this way about anyone else in my entire life. Molly, tell me the truth, do you think I'm being foolish?"

"Prince Lir, it's been my experience that most people are generally foolish, myself included, the trick is knowing the difference between what is considered obvious foolishness and the kind that is harder to figure out."

Prince Lir cocked his head back and thought that over for a moment, while the brindled kitchen cat seemed to regard him with knowing unfathomable green eyes. It made him more than a little uncomfortable so he broke eye contact with the contrary feline. 

"Hmm, I've never thought of it that way. My father says it's all right to lose my head over some girl as long as it does not affect my duties to the realm."

Molly's face paled and she nearly fell out of her chair, her hands clenched into fists at the ties of her apron. "Your father?" she gasped at last.

"Yes," answered Prince Lir. "I promised to protect Lady Amalthea and her escort, which includes you and that half-baked magician that claims to be her uncle with my life if need be. So, you have nothing to worry about, Molly."

"You are too hard on him." 

"On whom?" Prince Lir asked.

But on this topic Molly refused t be baited, or to give an immediate reply, instead, she said, "Come here and bring the potatoes and carrots and toss them into the pot."

He did as he was asked and began to stir in clock-wise manner as Molly instructed. She did not know why but all this talk about unrequited love and experimenting with various types of poetry and expressing on the page what was in one's heart, and the fact that she had had ample time to think; had made her start to regard her own emotions for the magician Schmendrick, differently than she had had at any time since they had set out on the quest. 

She did not know if it was the gloomy castle or the fact that Schmendrick was using every sleight of hand, illusion, and legedermain at his disposal to distract the attention of King Haggard away from Lady Alamathea; who in actuality was the last Unicorn in the world. But, she felt for him; exactly what she felt, she was too wound up inside to identify; so it was easier to avoid the subject.

"I've thought of a new opening line. What do you think of this? "Kindle the buried light, a proverbial candle, faintly glowing. Never seen by waking eyes. She is the moon and I am the sun. Lingering the sky. I shall be very happy in such splendid company. I shall be most gratified if thou but return one glance and regard me with returned affection."

"I think it very fine. But you need more. Don’t give up, Your Highness."

“Do you really think so?” Prince Lir asked eagerly.

“Yes, but continue to refine it, work in a few more verses, and I think it would be best in the future not to try to rhyme things too literally. For example, don’t rhyme deed with weed.”

“You found that one?” he asked, his hands coming up to cover the bottom half of his face, embarrassed. 

“Yes, I did, but don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.” Molly promised with an impish grin on her face. After all, here’s to trying, rhymes with dying.”

Lir paled again.

“Don’t look so glum, I never heard tell that anyone ever did of a broken heart.

“You are incorrigible woman, Molly Grue,” Lir mock-scolded.

“And how do you figure that. Prince Lir?” she asked.

“You giveth with one hand and taketh with the other.”

“Sorry if that last bit came out a bit harsher than I intended it,” she sighed.

“No apologies neeed,” he replied.

“I just tell it like it is,” Molly replied. “Once more with feeling. okay. I’ll read over whatever you come up with before you give it to her.

“Promise?” he asked hopefully.

“Of course,” she promised.


End file.
